Abnish Singh Chauhan Poems

Hark, Mother, hark
Trim and harp
Giving voice
To my ill-shaped lyre
...

Pain comes and goes
With the breath I take
Or puff out
When it becomes stale
...

Heed! Dear, heed!
The bell is ringing
The bird is singing
There, smiling the sun.
...

Boatmen without boats
Meet me by the river
How long would I go with them!
The ever flowing river
...

Letters seem straight
Out of the mirror
But crooked inside
Making delusion
...

My keeping silence
He hears-
He claims so!
He, who never liked
...

Walls remains tinted with
Advertising leaflets
We always see
Passing through the lane
...

Many things were left
to be shared with her
since the first meeting
in a local train.
...